Bad Kisser
by GarryxMrChairFan
Summary: Honestly, it wasn't Ivan's fault he hadn't kissed anyone before! Not that Yao seems to mind anyway. RoChu, AU, mild OOCness; Random prompt fill from imagineyourotp on tumblr.


_**Bad Kisser**  
_

~GarryxMrChairFan :3

**Customary Disclaimer: **Any and all recognizable _Hetalia: Axis Powers _characters © Himaruya Hidekaz.

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_Imagine your OTP sharing their first kiss. Both are inexperienced, Person A more so than Person B. They bump noses, causing Person A to blush in embarrassment and Person B to just laugh and tease Person A: "You really are a bad kisser, aren't you?" Years pass and they marry. After being wedded, they lean in to kiss each other and just like their first kiss, they bump noses. Person B teases again with "You're still a bad kisser, you know that?" and they share that special kiss as they laugh._

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Ivan frowned into his mirror, fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket as he pulled it tighter around him. He disliked fancy clothes – well, most anything that wasn't his typical winter season school blazer – and he felt exposed in such thin layers. But it was necessary, he supposed; it wouldn't do to look average on his first-ever official date.

He glanced over to his sister, who was flitting about in his wardrobe. "_Katyusha_," he pouted, "am I ready yet? Can I go now?"

The wheat blonde head of his older sister popped out of the wardrobe, a warm smile on her face. "Now, now, _Vanya_," she chided, shaking her locks around. "You want to look your absolute best for your date, _da_?"

Ivan flushed and turned to look in the mirror once again, tugging at his collar. "Of course!"

Yekaterina smiled the motherly smile he knew so well, pulling something out of his wardrobe and sidling over, holding up the item. "Last touch, I promise."

Ivan looked at the scarf in his sister's hands, a smile gracing his lips. It was a light tan, made of the softest cashmere by his mother's hands and lengthened by Yekaterina as he shot up in height so it would continue to hang long like he liked it.

He chuckled as she wrapped the scarf around his neck, letting her adjust it so it hung just so. She smiled, looking into his eyes.

"Perfect," she cooed, pulling him into a hug and crushing him to her large bosom. "Now, let's not keep him waiting, shall we?"

Ivan nodded, burying his face in the softness of the fabric of the scarf as he followed his sister out of his room and down the hall to the foyer, where a slender boy clad in a traditional Chinese _hanfu _in a deep crimson red color, embroidered with delicate gold filigree and trimmed in a dark ebony hem stood tall, observing intently one of the paintings hanging on the wall.

The Russian boy felt his cheeks begin to burn once again as he shyly approached the other, watching the silky black hair fall fluidly over his shoulder as he turned his head and their eyes met.

Ivan smiled tightly in nervousness. "_Pryvet, _Yao," he said softly, hiding his mouth behind his scarf again.

Yao's dark eyes regarded him with a subtle fondness, twinkling in the light of the foyer. "Good evening, _Vanya,_" he replied gently, a small smile on his lips. "Are you ready to go?"

Ivan nodded, grinning widely behind the fabric around his neck despite the faint anxious and excited trembling in his hands. "_Da. _Are you?"

The Chinese boy nodded, turning gracefully on his heel and sliding his arm around Ivan's elbow . "Yes. Let's go, then. The reservation is for seven-thirty."

Ivan swallowed nervously and nodded again, turning one last time to his sister, who smiled warmly at him.

Ivan swallowed nervously and nodded again, turning one last time to his sister, who smiled warmly at him.

"Have fun tonight, _Vanya_," she called, waving to him as he walked with Yao to the door.

He smiled in return. "I will," he reassured before turning to the elegant being next to him. "You look lovely tonight, little Yao," he complimented as he held the passenger door to his car for the boy. "Pretty as a flower."

Yao smirked at him as he eased himself into the seat. "You clean up nicely, too, _Vanya_," he returned, waiting as the Russian closed the door and slid into the driver's seat. "You should wear lighter clothes more often; you're not quite as intimidating without the extra bulk." He winked playfully.

Ivan chuckled as he pulled out of the drive and into the street, expertly exiting the neighborhood. "It is easier to be intimidating," he said lightly, glancing at Yao from the corner of his icy lilac eye. "People show their true colors when they are afraid. I do not like fake friends."

The Chinese boy hummed in agreement, leaning his chin on his palm as he gazed out the window at the passing scenery. "Then you're lucky I don't find you intimidating."

"You are a true friend, Yao," Ivan stated happily, grinning once again. "That is why I like Yao. He is my first true friend."

Yao looked over and smiled at the endearing childlike excitement in the Russian's features. He leaned over, resting his head against the broad shoulder and nuzzling slightly into the soft scarf, inhaling the fresh scent of the laundry detergent Ivan used on his clothes. "I am honored to be that friend."

Ivan blushed at the action of the other and continued grinning madly in happiness as he drove them to the restaurant they'd chosen for dinner. It was a classic French bistro of sorts, known for its blend of prime French cuisine and cultural favorites from around the world, integrating the dishes harmoniously so that there was something for everyone to savor. It was also considered high-class, with a practically black-tie dress code, which was why Ivan had bothered with a suit in the first place. It wouldn't have done to show up in plain trousers and his school blazer.

He didn't want his little Yao to think he didn't have a sense of style when it counted.

Pulling smoothly into a parking space, Ivan slid out of the car to open the door for his date, smiling timidly and with a deeply nervous blush as he took Yao's slim fingers, feeling the soft skin caress against his large hands as the boy walked next to him to the door of the establishment where they were met by the maître d' who took their coats and led them to their table.

The place was small and cozy, with warm lighting bathing the cherry wood walls decorated in landscape paintings by obscure Renaissance artists. The tables were covered in off-white tablecloths and set professionally with fine ceramic dinnerware and silverware polished to a perfect shine. The chairs were cushioned just so to make it seem like they were sitting on a sofa, and menus were laid in front of them as they were seated.

Ivan glanced down at his menu, reading each of the choices in indecipherable French before re-reading them in English, scanning through the entrées with a content upturn of his lips. Lilac eyes looked up from the menu to the dark honey ones trained down on their owner's menu, moving side to side as he read.

"Do you know what you'd like?" he asked brightly, smiling as the Chinaman looked up.

Yao chuckled softly. "Only if you do," he countered, a delicate finger tracing the rim of the water glass brought to them moments ago.

Ivan tucked his chin into his scarf, breathing in the scent of the cashmere. His eyes shone as he gazed at Yao. "_Da_. I believe I have chosen."

Yao looked back with a wink and called over their waiter with a flick of his wrist. The man scurried up, a pad and pen in hand and a tired smile on his face.

"What can I get you?"

Ivan listened absently as Yao placed his order, watching the way the Chinese boy's lips moved as he spoke, feeling the butterflies pleasantly stir about in his stomach and the spreading flush warm his pale cheeks as Yao smiled at him. He caught a glimpse of the man taking their orders from the corner of his eye, seeing the hidden hunger in his sunken eyes as they ran over the Chinaman's form.

When Yao finished, he turned and gave the waiter his choices in a bright voice laced with underlying venom and ice, his lilac eyes hardening and an almost evil aura emanating from him. He giggled internally at the paling of the man's face and shaking hands as he nodded meekly and ran off.

The Russian smiled gleefully as he turned back to his date, chuckling innocently at the Chinese boy's raised eyebrow. "His eyes were ravenous," he explained simply with a nonchalant shrug. "I didn't like it."

Yao simply nodded in thought, sipping at his drink with a small smirk on his lips. "Thank you, then."

That was another thing Ivan adored about Yao: the Chinaman understood his peculiarities and could interpret his nonsensical musings with ease; while it was strange, the Russian only ever showed care and concern for his well-being and Ivan was appreciative.

Yao _got _him, and that was all he really ever wanted.

The food was brought around soon after, Ivan thanking the waiter enthusiastically while the poor man shivered and Yao shaking his head in exasperation while Ivan smiled sheepishly before starting in on his meal. The food was decent, though Ivan couldn't say French cuisine was his favorite by any means, but it wasn't terrible, and he was content to note that his date didn't seem overly impressed either, so he didn't feel bad about thinking they'd definitely _not _be coming to the place for future dates.

Because there were going to be more dates. Ivan was positive about this with every sly glance the Chinese boy sent his way.

The Russian could hardly control the heavy beating of his heart as he flushed under those intense dark honey eyes.

. . .

Night was falling, the sky deepening from burning orange to encompassing indigo as Ivan and Yao walked quietly together from the restaurant to the park across the street, content to kill time until their next engagement – a street play being performed in the amphitheatre nestled deeply in the grove of trees at the far end of the park – by wandering lazily down the gravel paths winding between the ponds and open meadows surrounded by cedars and evergreens. The willows surrounding the center lake billowed and swayed softly with the night wind, their leaves draping across the calm water and sending ripples from one end to the other.

Ivan could feel the warmth radiating from his date at his side, Yao's arms tucked securely within his as they strolled along, the cool breeze playing with their hair and tossing it about gently. He could feel the soft skin of the Chinese boy's hand in his, their fingers sliding together and entwining comfortably as they walked; could feel his pale face warm farther as a dark head of hair rested against his broad shoulder.

He was quite content to spend the rest of forever like that, peacefully meandering through the night with his first true friend by his side.

Ivan smiled gently and gazed up, observing the twinkling stars embedded in the deep blue velvet blanket that was the sky. "They're very pretty," he commented absently, tightening his hold on the delicate hand in his and looking down at the body next to him.

He could feel Yao chuckle. "Indeed they are," the Chinaman agreed, glancing up into Ivan's lilac irises, glowing warmly in the moonlight.

Ivan flushed again and quickly averted his eyes, unable to hold the piercing gaze of the dark honey eyes seeming to stare into his soul. "Yao is prettier, though," he murmured lowly, almost to himself.

Yao heard anyway and his porcelain cheeks reddened slightly. "Thank you."

They continued walking slowly until they came to one of the few gazebos surrounding the lake, the wooden supports wrapped securely in ivy and the willows nearly hiding it from view of the populace. Not that there were many out and about at this hour to disturb whoever used it, but still. Ivan found that it gave the small structure a mystical air, as if creatures of folklore resided in the leaves and trees next to the water.

The night certainly seemed magical.

Ivan led his date into the gazebo, standing with him to gaze out at the calm ripples in the lake from the hanging willow branches, watching the sudden lighting and dimming of the many fireflies in the area, the soft hooting of an owl in the distance and the sense-numbing buzz of insect life in the back of his mind.

"I've enjoyed tonight, _Vanya_. Thank you."

The Russian boy glanced down with wide eyes at Yao, who was still gazing out at the lake. He chuckled. "The night isn't over yet, little Yao, but you're very welcome."

Yao glanced at him from the side of his eye, his mouth quirking up at the side before he let his gaze turn back to the water. "Hm." After a brief moment, the Chinaman turned to face the Russian full on, looking up at Ivan from under long lashes, a faint blush on his cheeks as he bit his lip.

Ivan could feel his own face heating up as he smiled down at the shorter boy, hesitantly reaching out to take slender hands in his own and pull them to his face, pressing light kisses to Yao's long fingers as he gazed into dark eyes. He felt his date gently slide his hands out from his grasp, instead reaching to cup his warm face in cool hands.

Ivan suddenly froze. The fluttering of his stomach had increased tenfold what it had been at the look he was being given, the gentle caresses along his jaw stirring his excitement and slight anxiety deep in him. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he placed his hands around Yao, unsure what else to do with them as the other stepped closer to him, running his pale fingers through white-blond hair.

"You're shaking, _Vanya,_" Yao whispered with a chuckle, and Ivan drew in a shaky breath in confirmation.

"The wind is cool tonight," Ivan muttered with a small smile, trying to calm himself. He was so nervous!

Yao chuckled again. "Then let me warm you up," he breathed, and he brought their mouths together in a timid kiss.

Ivan squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his nose bump against Yao's as their faces came together, sliding awkwardly as the Chinese boy maneuvered them to press against each other as their lips finally met.

It definitely wasn't his smoothest moment, but Ivan could hardly think as he held Yao to him, feeling himself melt into Yao as his date wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders. Ivan moved his lips against Yao, grimacing slightly when he felt their teeth clack and resisting the urge to lick up the drool he could almost definitely feel running down their chins, but he was so happy!

Yao was kissing him! Ivan had only dreamed of a day like this since meeting the Chinese boy who wasn't afraid of him, who had taken it upon himself to be Ivan's very first friend once he discovered the Russian boy wasn't actually out to harm him and was just lonely.

A long moment passed before they broke apart, panting softly as they smiled into each other's eyes. Ivan leaned his head against Yao's, mildly lightheaded from the rush of excitement and lack of air, seeing the amusement in the dark eyes in front of him. "What?" he asked timidly.

The Chinaman chuckled against his lips. "You're a really bad kisser, you know that?"

The Russian boy felt his ears heat up in embarrassment, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. "It is not my fault I have never kissed another before!"

Yao simply shook his head, cupping Ivan's face once again and placing light kisses to everywhere he could reach - his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, a peck on his lips - before smiling sweetly. "And I'm glad for that. I only tease you, _Vanya_." His irises sparkled playfully. "I very much enjoyed that just now."

Ivan smiled timidly. "So did I, little Yao. Very much."

. . .

Ivan frowned into his mirror, fiddling with the hem of his tuxedo jacket as he pulled it tighter around him. He disliked fancy clothes – well, most anything that wasn't his typical long coat – and he felt exposed in such thin layers. But it was necessary, he supposed; it wouldn't do to look average on his wedding day.

His lips turned up at that, his smile lighting his features as he watched himself in the mirror, tugging at the light purple vest beneath his white tuxedo jacket. It had been an amazing five years since his first ever official date with the love of his life, and he couldn't quell the excitement bubbling in his stomach.

Ivan had spent as much of everyday with Yao as he could after their first date, always with him and just hanging out when they didn't want to do anything. The Chinaman had introduced him to his family properly, and Yekaterina never failed to invite him over for dinner so she could coo over them. He was always left blushing, but the smile on Yao's face and his laugh were more than worth the slight embarrassment.

They'd been dating a little over four years when Ivan had finally proposed. The Russian knew he wouldn't ever have anyone to spend his life with quite like Yao, and Yao had made him the happiest man on Earth when he'd accepted with a "What took you so long, aru?" and a light kiss. They'd spent the next several months happily engaged and excited about the planning of their wedding, deciding on the venue and the catering, the color scheme, the guests and bridesmaids and groomsmen. Several of their close friends from school had kept in touch and had quickly accepted, and Ivan knew they were waiting just out in the foyer of the large church for things to officially begin.

With a deep breath, Ivan ceased his fidgeting with his coat and carefully picked up his scarf, still just as soft and warm as it had been when he'd gotten it. He inhaled the familiar scent on it before pulling it around his neck, adjusting it where he liked it. Looking into the mirror, he smiled as he saw his sister in the doorway, her lovely blue dress hugging her elegantly.

There were tears in her eyes as she walked over, embracing him tightly. "Oh, _Vanya_," she choked, her smile wide. "You look absolutely dashing! So handsome!"

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And you look beautiful, _Katyusha_," he chuckled. "Is it time?"

With a sniff, she nodded. "Oh, yes! I came to get you! Everyone is making their way in now."

After a last look in the mirror, Ivan let his sister lead him into the grand area draped in pale creams and deep reds, bouquets of the most brilliant roses and sunflowers situated along each row of seats. The guests were all filing in as he made his way to the front to stand by the preacher that was marrying them, smiling at his groomsmen.

The tallest of them, a former rival of his in school and his best man, slapped him on the best and smiled wide, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "You nervous, man?" he asked.

Ivan glanced out to the room and shook his head. "No, comrade, but I am excited."

The American laughed. "Same ol' fearless _Vanya_. Man, I wish I had your confidence when I stood there."

Ivan saw him smile and wave to the green-eyed blond Briton holding still a young boy that looked a perfect mix of him and his partner. The Russian grinned. "You did fine, _Fredka_," he said happily. "I seem to recall they had trouble getting you to stand still for the ceremony."

"Ain't that the truth." Alfred chuckled. "Still, man. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you."

Their conversation was cut when music began filling the air from the piano, followed shortly by a vocalist and a flutist as the opening to the traditional Pachelbel's Canon in D began. It was calm and serene as the guests stood, everyone's focus on the back of the room where the bride emerged as they rest of the orchestra joined in.

Ivan's breath left him in a rush as he gazed upon the sight that was his husband-to-be. Yao was in a flowing _hanfu_ of the purest white, trimmed in gold floral patterns, flowing gracefully from his lean figure. His long hair had been done up, laced through with delicate flowers, and his dark eyes were outlined to pop as he strode purposefully in time to the front of the church, his younger half-brother with him.

As Yao reached him, Ivan smiled and held out his hand, the Chinaman's sliding into it as they turned to face the preacher and let the ceremony begin. It was fairly quick, all things considered, and before he knew it they were reciting their vows, reciting the words the preacher had them speaking, tying themselves together. With confidence, Ivan slipped the slim band onto Yao's finger, watching it glint in the overhead fluorescent lights.

"I do," he promised, his icy lilac eyes warm as he gazed into dark honey irises shining back, feeling a single tear roll down his cheek as Yao promised the same in return.

At the famous words, Ivan cupped Yao's face gently, leaning down. "I love you," he whispered happily.

Yao had wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "I love you, too, aru," he replied, bringing their lips together.

It was much the same as their first kiss; Ivan's nose bumped against Yao's, and he winced as their teeth clacked, but it was perfect. They held the other close for several long seconds, hearing faintly the loud applause from their friends and families before parting, hands clasped tightly together as they stared and chuckled.

"You're still a bad kisser, aru." Yao's smile was soft and teasing as he reached up to run his fingers through white-blond hair, moving it from the eyes he loved.

Ivan tried to pout, but he couldn't help but smile. "You are still the only one I've kissed."

A light chuckle, and Yao leaned forward to kiss him once again. "And it will stay that way if I have anything to say about it!"

As they turned to face the crowd and make their way to the reception, Ivan tightened his grip on his new husband's hand, his childlike smile on his lips.

"I would not have it any other way, _da_?"

_END_

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**_Okay, so that was my first-ever RoChu fic. God, I'm sappy. =3= Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! Leave your thoughts: good, bad, and everything in between._**

**_Much love, dears. :3  
~GarryxMrChairFan_**


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